water and trees on red land


there are parts of life
where time seems still
not stopped
slightly moving as one breaths at last
so much rhythm
our senses are too harsh to sense
our consciousness is too narrow to trust
it is there then
hardly now here


there is an eternal reality inside us all
yet this hollow man suppresses his feet
towards the road to spend time waiting
for something new



pasts have not yet been lived
they didn't last
no matter how much they were longed for
a narrow path we only saw and took
which we cannot show or tell
it was just ours
like hours of steep walking
behind the waterfall